


To Restore A Hero

by SereneSorrow



Category: Bleach
Genre: It is now, Knights and Magic AU, M/M, Sexual Necromancy, UraIchi Week 2020, is that even a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneSorrow/pseuds/SereneSorrow
Summary: Court Mage Kisuke Urahara and Knight Ichigo Kurosaki have never really traveled in the same circles, and it would appear to most that they barely even know each other's names, but when the worst befalls the Kingdom's valiant hero the brilliant mage goes to the greatest (or worst) of lengths to change his fate.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93
Collections: UraIchi Week 2020





	To Restore A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> UraIchi Week 2020 - Day 1: Resurrection
> 
> WARNINGS: (Read the tag 'Sexual Necromancy') Yeah, judge for yourself if it counts as non-con and/or necrophilia if it's with a corpse that comes back to life half-way through, because I just thought: "Huh, there's an idea" and ran with it.

The hero, brave knight Ichigo Kurosaki, was laid to rest in a tomb far beneath the king's palace. Two days after the defeat of the monstrous dragon known as Lord Aizen, that had arrived in the capital without warning after laying waste to the kingdom of the desert to the south, the celebrations had begun as the repairs got underway. The great body of the dreaded dragon still lay rotting in the eastern quarter of the city where it had brought down five churches and two schools as well as countless homes and businesses with both it's blazing flames and its body when it was felled. The parties in the palace held by His Majesty Shunsui Kyoraku were one and all in honor of the brightest knight of the realm, but not everyone was joyous in celebrating.

Court mage Kisuke Urahara was alone this evening, save for the hordes of the dead. Creeping along the avenues of the dead, within the noble tomb far below the revelers, Kisuke's eyes skipped from one plaque to another until he came to the blank space most recently prepared. Torchlight flickered over the walls, carved by the hands of long dead craftsmen who had devoted lifetimes to finishing the tomb that would hold the royals, nobles and knights of a hundred generations to come, and Kisuke followed the intricate loops and arrows of vines and blades along the walls and into the crypt he needed.

He halted there, just past the threshold, and stared at the armored form laid out on the raised slab in the center of the room. It was a simple interment, the body dressed in its finest accoutrements and preserved with inscribed spells around the edge of the slab. Even this meager working was more than the Ichigo he'd known would have wanted, he was a modest man who had lead a simple life, only rising to knighthood when his skill with magecrafted blades revealed his potential to the nobility of his home village. Despite Ichigo's wishes to return to a simple life with his family someday, Kisuke for one was thankful that his talents had pushed him to the capital. To have been given the chance to meet Ichigo, Kisuke was forever grateful, as the knight had earned not only rank, prestige, and regard from comrades and noble ladies both but also Kisuke's obsession.

Hefting the heavy satchel off of his shoulder, Kisuke moved forward, averting his eyes from the ornate helm that hid Ichigo's vibrant sunset hair, and lit the other torches set along the wall evenly around the room. He returned to the satchel and opened it, pulling forth several spools of red thread and many strong needles as well as a bowl and carefully chosen jars of ingredients. Silently, Kisuke moved toward the body, eyes avoiding the mask over the knight's face. Kisuke dipped one finger into one of the jars he'd brought and swiped it across the inscribed words of powerful sorcery, disrupting the preservation and then over-wrote the tampering warnings. Setting the ink aside, he wiped off his hand and then carefully removed the armor one piece at a time, moving it across the room and placing it in an ungainly pile until he had the body and its wrappings bared to the open air. He rolled the bandages into spools until the burned and savaged body was revealed, and set them aside, returning for his threads and needles.

In the flickering light, Kisuke chose the ensorcelled threads carefully, assigning which wound each would stitch. Then he slowly drew the skin of Ichigo's abdomen taught between his fingers and began sewing closed the gash that had nearly spilled his organs out into the air. One thread for the muscle, another for the skin, a pattern that he continued across Ichigo's torso as he re-covered ribs and then moved on to arms. He was meticulous, keeping the stitching neat and even, flawless so that the wounds were repaired beautifully. Even stitching closed the small cuts on Ichigo's right foot, caused when he'd lost his boot and run toward the dragon without stopping to find a replacement. As he finished the stitching he ran one finger softly over the repair work, feeling the slightly raised thread over the cold skin.

Finally stepping back he inspected his work, the long lines of ruby stitches crisscrossing the burns on Ichigo's chest and lacing up both arms and legs, even securing a vertical line along the right side of his neck with just three stitches raised past the edge of his jaw. He set the needles and thread back into his satchel and poured the meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl to mix with precision and then inked the small circle he needed right there on the floor, placing the bowl over the magical flames to brew. Taking out his brush for the most detailed of his works he inked the hundreds of characters across Ichigo's body, some following the lines of stitches and others circling the placement of organs and more ephemeral things. The preparations already carried out on the body included a thorough washing with purified water, so he was able to forgo that effort, and he had washed himself with the same before setting out to even enter the tomb. He had memorized the chant, and he knew every step of this ritual by heart, all that was left was to go through with it.

Kisuke finally paused, and looked carefully at Ichigo's face. He looked peaceful despite the violence evident on his body, his scowl softened but not entirely slack. He couldn't be mistaken for sleeping, but Kisuke could see that he was at peace. If he went through with this ritual, there was a very real chance that Ichigo would experience near-eternal torment, and never find peace (of this kind or any other) ever again. He was being incredibly selfish, with this wish, but Kisuke refused to let Ichigo rest. The bubbling potion drew his attention as it proved itself complete and Kisuke watched the sickly purple cloud billowing over it as it spread across the ceiling and began to taint the torches. It was time to begin.

The catches on his robes were deftly opened, and Kisuke left his garments in a pile on the floor to match the discarded armor. He shivered, naked in the cold underground space, but it didn't slow him down. Plucking the bowl from the flames and spilling three drops of its contents into the flames to taint them with the same magic and keep the cloud that hovered against the ceiling, Kisuke then turned to the body and pried open Ichigo's jaw. He poured half of the scalding liquid into Ichigo's mouth slowly, working it down his throat and watching the faint glow trace his organs until it had seeped into everything it could reach. Then he turned up the bowl to his own lips and ignored the burns it raised within his mouth and throat, choking it down without a gag or tear until every drop was gone. There was only one step left to complete, and he set the bowl aside to fulfill it.

Having moved Ichigo's body into position as he had scripted the spell, Kisuke mounted the table himself and knelt between Ichigo's spread legs. As soon as he was settled he began chanting the first words of the longest ritual he had ever learned, finishing the first verse before moving on to the next stage. There was no easing the way, nothing could be allowed to interfere with the ritual, so Kisuke proceeded slowly as he worked his burning cock into Ichigo's hole. His member was engorged and glowed the same purple as the potion, as did his balls and Kisuke kept his eyes and hands on his progress as his lips worked over the next verse from memory. He had to work more quickly now, he had to be fully sheathed by the end of the next verse, and though Ichigo's body was relaxed in death the recent preservation spells had kept his body from stretching out which was both a blessing and a curse. Finally, unable to risk failure so early, Kisuke forced himself roughly the rest of the way inside Ichigo's hole just as he began the last line of the verse.

Finishing the last word and beginning the third verse, Kisuke thrust into the body below him with an even pace to match the chant, noting with satisfaction that the torches had all flashed and dimmed to a darker purple at precisely the right moment. He kept his hands away from Ichigo's body, careful not to disturb either the stitching or the script, and moderated his breathing between the chant and his exertions so that he would not exhaust himself. His engorged cock throbbed painfully, the hole stretching around it's intrusive penetration was dry and rough, making very little of his movements pleasurable but this ritual wasn't about pleasure. Not really, no it was about the intent behind his actions, and Kisuke had long dreamed of burying himself in this body and finding completion therein. His intent may have been unseemly, and worse still a crime by law even if it was no longer enforced under the current king's rule, but it was still strong and full of raw, honest and heartfelt devotion. If ever there was a chance for any mage to resurrect a soul than this was it.

Twisting through his guts, the potion tested his control of every aspect of his body and Kisuke felt sweat dripping down his temples as he fought to keep calm and keep the chant steady, a fifth and sixth verse passing by almost unnoticed as he rocked into Ichigo's lifeless body. The sweat might smear the script, he realized suddenly, eyes widening as he looked over the ink and tried to determine if it remained intact. Everything that he could see was fine, but he couldn't move the body now to check on what he _couldn't_ see. Worry and dread filled his chest, but he pressed on without pause, verses flowing into the darkening room as the cloud began to fill his lungs and then finally reached low enough to caress Ichigo's still body.

Curls of smoke drifted across Ichigo's face and almost like fingers teased his lips until suddenly, just as Kisuke hit the twelfth verse, Ichigo inhaled a sudden and harsh breath. His lungs expanded far enough to strain his chest outward, and he sucked in a lungful of the smoke, holding the breath as his torso shook with the effects of the tainted air. Releasing the breath and taking another more naturally, Ichigo's body relaxed into a boneless sprawl that held more life than his bones had possessed for two days. Kisuke's heart raced, thumping painfully against his own ribs as he watched Ichigo's first breaths, his eyes still closed but his body beginning to respond in pure reflex. His customary scowl began pulling at his lips again and his fingers twitched, and then his hips responded to one of Kisuke's thrusts with an abortive jerk that brought Kisuke's attention to Ichigo's own cock. There were two red stitches at it's base, where a jagged cut had just barely reached far enough to damage it, and they stretched what little slack he'd given them as Ichigo's cock filled with hot blood and pulsing purple potion.

Tempo picking up as the thirteenth verse transitioned into the fourteenth, Kisuke slammed his hips into Ichigo's own, relieved when Ichigo's body automatically responded and began meeting his every thrust at just the same beat as his chant. The ritual was succeeding, everything was going perfectly, Kisuke felt both light and heavy at the same time with thoughts of success warring with the knowledge of what he was doing to his friend and the younger man's soul. It was on the sixteenth verse that something went wrong.

Not devastatingly, not as far as the ritual was concerned, no the ritual was unbroken and could still be completed successfully. No, what went wrong was that Ichigo's strength of heart and spirit gave him the _physical_ strength to open his eyes. Awakened fully before even his body was restored, let alone his soul re-chained to it, and he was looking directly up at Kisuke. His eyes were clouded and likely blurry for a few moments, and then they cleared and Ichigo's next breath was harsher, the young knight so very clearly startled by the sight that greeted him. His mouth parted soundlessly, the burns in his throat stealing his voice, and Kisuke could see some form of comprehension dawning as Ichigo recognized the way Kisuke was moving. It was likely that Ichigo could not feel his own body, and therefore could not feel Kisuke's cock in his ass, but a knight of Ichigo's virility would have more than enough experience with carnal pleasure to know what was happening, what Kisuke was doing to him.

Unable to cease the chant and reassure Ichigo, if any explanation of necromancy could ever _be_ reassuring, Kisuke kept his eyes locked with Ichigo's own shocked stare. It didn't change Ichigo's expression of open mouthed confusion, no matter that Kisuke kept on until the twenty-third verse when the pace picked up again and Ichigo's own body responded to keep up. Ichigo had regained feeling in his body, his soul nearly reattached, and he had to feel it by now. Still, his muscles flexed and his body strained while his face held only shock. The twenty-seventh verse (the last) and the pressure in his cock, his entire groin and hips had all built as the potion concentrated there until at last his body went through the motions of release and filled Ichigo's tight hole with viscous purple fluid that was more concentrated than it had begun. It ached as it flowed through his cock, stretching the channel painfully wide and Kisuke forced down a groan of pain as he chanted the last few sentences. Ichigo felt no compulsion toward silence, and as the same sticky fluid forced its way through his member he moaned, loud and pained, as his body shook. The last words were finished, and the silence rang around them in the tomb. The cloud of smoke still choked the air and the torchlight was nearly black, but Kisuke could see well enough the way Ichigo's chest heaved and stretched his stitches, the way his body continued to shake from shock more than the pain of his forced release.

Slowly, Kisuke slid his brutalized cock out of Ichigo's hole, the fluid still stuck to his tip and slowly oozing out of Ichigo's body. Kisuke dismounted the table and shakily approached Ichigo's head. The young knight's eyes followed him, still staring as if he no longer recognized Kisuke, and he flinched when Kisuke touched his cheek. Numbly, Kisuke turned and re-dressed himself, and then carried the robe he'd brought for Ichigo over to the table. Without a word, his voice gone from the damage of the scalding potion exacerbated by the chanting of the ritual, Kisuke indicated that Ichigo should rise and when he did Kisuke helped him into the robe without stopping to clean off either of their bodies. Kisuke knew that there wasn't much time left. He had prevented any alarm from sounding at the magics being performed in this room but before long the few guards who walked the tombs would come and see a disturbance and torchlight and come to investigate.

Half-dragging and half-carrying Ichigo from the tomb, Kisuke left the armor behind as well as his ingredients. He took only his satchel with his threads and needles, as he pulled the still largely insensate knight back up to the castle and through passages and corridors that had been lost to common knowledge over generations of renovations. The carriage that he had hired at an exorbitantly inflated rate waited just where he had instructed, beside a hidden portal in the castle wall, and Kisuke bundled Ichigo into it before waving for the driver to set off and climbing in himself. He seated himself across from the young knight that had captured his heart, and took in the hunched, awkward form of the once vibrant man. His eyes were shadowed and haunted, his skin sallow and the stitches just peeking out from where the robe didn't cover him entirely were obscenely vibrant against the papery color. Kisuke had known that he risked this, that even if he succeeded in bringing the man he loved back from the grave and beyond he may still lose the man himself. It was a risk he had felt worth taking, but the wounded expression that the kingdom's favored knight wore now stabbed at him, making his heart ache.

Ichigo's mouth opened and closed, his throat working but still too damaged from burns to speak, and Kisuke had used all of his strength for the ritual itself so there was nothing he could do for the remaining damage that Ichigo was suffering through until he had recovered some fraction of his magic. Those eyes, honeyed brown now turned to dark chocolate, questioned him when his mouth could not. Hurt and abuse screaming from them as they demanded that Kisuke explain himself. His own throat was dry and scalded as well, and Kisuke didn't have the strength to explain his early (and immediate) infatuation and then long-lasting obsession with the popular knight, or the soul-crushing loss that he had experienced when Ichigo had fallen. When he had seen Ichigo's body lain before the fallen dragon and so still, when he had spent nearly two days avoiding requests for aid in removing damaged homes and rubble from the road to cloister himself in his labs and his library to search all of the darkest corners of his vast collection for this forbidden, ruinous magic. That he had left everything behind and was taking Ichigo somewhere far away where no-one would search for either of them, and for good reason because even with both of their good standings with King Shunsui the man would have no choice but to order bounties and executions for them both because Kisuke had bent the laws of nature itself to bring Ichigo back to him.

Instead, Kisuke leaned forward and gently took Ichigo's hand in his own, carefully raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to it as a man would to a lady he courted. He held the hand to his lips for longer than custom dictated, as would a man who pushed the boundaries of society and dared to show his lady his true affections, before lowering Ichigo's hand. Kisuke's eyes never left Ichigo's own, and he couldn't bare to part with Ichigo's hand now that he had taken it. Even if Ichigo was horrified and disgusted with him, this moment of truth was something that he needed. Instead of being disappointed however, as Kisuke had believed more than just likely, Ichigo's dark eyes warmed to honey again as they watched him, and his scowl slowly transformed into a small smile. Kisuke was shocked, speechless, as Ichigo's fingers lightly squeezed his hand. Ichigo didn't despise him, he had understood Kisuke's feelings, and against all odds he wasn't repulsed. Ichigo accepted him, accepted his devotion and love. Kisuke wept, openly and brokenly, making a mess of himself as he slid to the floor of the carriage. Instead of embarrassment he felt Ichigo's stitched fingers combing through his hair slowly and carefully and knew the relief of acceptance and feelings returned, and Ichigo's willingness to stay by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, challenged myself not to use any dialogue... so even though Kisuke was chanting a spell, technically there was none, yay!


End file.
